The Order of the Psi
by CatC10
Summary: Ron is a leader in a secret organization not restricted to the wizarding world, Harry is having strange deams, and Voldemort is searching for a mysterious power hidden within Hogwart's walls. What does this mean for the wizarding world? Multiple ends.
1. Default Chapter

Order of the Psi  
  
Ron smiled inwardly at eh frightened 1st years before him. He knew how they felt, summoned to something none were to know of, including them, until later. Five years ago, he himself been very tempted to tell Harry, but he'd withheld.  
  
~Flashback~  
  
Ron, who had only come to Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry, a few weeks before, had out of nowhere received a message on him bed. In tight scrawl, is asked his attendance, stating neither whom summoned him nor why, only explaining how to get to the rendezvous point, when to be there, and that it was of utmost importance that he not tell a soul being of the letter.  
  
Of course, this meant that he was going, even though he couldn't take along his new best friend. He never knew a more nerve-wracking week before the specified date.  
  
Under darkness, he crept about the castle, following the directions left on the summons. With each step, the pit in his stomach dropped a little farther into his feet. 'Filtch is around the next bend, I know it!' he thought before each turn.  
  
At long last, he arrived at the tapestry of Luna the wise, on the 3rd floor of Hogwarts, and pulled it back. An ornately carved door—no, gateway of oak stood before him, standing out oddly well in the surrounding stonework. "Psi!" He whispered, and it swung on silent hinges inward.  
  
Before him were other frightened first years, and beyond them, white robed students, seeming unearthly in such a dark room. Moonlight filtered in from a glass-seeming roof, held up by stone pillars carved in swirling vines, and it caused the hooded teens in white to glow. Even those of dark skin seemed pale.  
  
Ron looked at their garb, and realized it must have been some sort of uniform. A pristine white robe that looked much like a large nightshirt that had to be pulled over the head for lack of buttons or hood. It had wide bell like sleeves and a rope-like belt to gather the material at the waist. Lastly, on each head, was a hat. Bucket shaped, with two tails falling across the shoulders, all the same save the symbol of pulsating blue-white emblazoned on the forehead.  
  
Ron briefly wondered how it was possible for them to see, the hat dragged straight down past their eyes. He was knocked out of his silent musings when a sixth year, at least, Ron thought it was a sixth year—he could only go by height, spoke.  
  
"Hello." Ron jumped as the boy's forehead symbol, an pupil-less eye with five eyelashes on top, and three on bottom, and two swirls to either side, flamed anew.  
  
"H-hello," he managed to squeak with the chorus of first-years that were in this strange situation with him. There were maybe nine others.  
  
~End flashback~  
  
Ron repeated the speech he'd heard five years ago, today. Such was tradition, after all.  
  
"Do you know why you are here?" a ripple of heads shaking. He just smiled, no one ever said yes. The first-years shied away as he rose from his floating marble chair. He gave a flourish to the grand room they now stood in, "Welcome to the Hall of Psi. You have all been seen to have the spark of sight. Uncovering it to it's full potential is our goal. The sight itself is a powerful thing, but first, the sight must be awakened, and to refine it, you must train under us. There are no shortcuts, and to let us guide your hands is a big decision that you can rely on no one to help with, for here, you know only us, and we, only you. You may either accept our offer, or decline. Accepting will have you received into the Order of Psi—us. Declining will have your memory wiped, all knowledge of this gone, and back in your bed until you power arrives on it's own." He paused to gauge their reactions.  
  
Theirs were much like his was. Half sure they were sleeping, and dreaming a strange dream, but another half curious as to what exactly this 'sight' was.  
  
Seeing those who had the look of 'you guide me, or I go it alone? I'll go it alone!' on their faces, Ron continued.  
  
"Beware of the second choice, those who decline the offer made by the Psi are usually found a few years later, dead by suicide. Driven insane by the power they cannot control. That being said: Do you accept or Decline?"  
  
The first-years, pale at the mention of insanity, nodded vigorously.  
  
With a quick nod to his right, a white robed figure stepped forward with an added adornment to his uniform. A red sash draped over the left shoulder. Much like Ron's own black one. The red-sashed one held an ivory looking rod in his hands, vines of itself seeming to be woven around it.  
  
Gingerly, he passed it to the first year in front of him, the boy asked, "Do you swear, to obey our laws, honor your teachings, and to never speak of us outside of our meetings?"  
  
"I swear," The young girl said, voice shaking some with the sensation of air pressing in on her, sinking in her oaths to the very bones. Immediately, her nightdress morphed into the uniform the rest of the Psi wore, and she instinctively reached up with her left hand to touch the cap on her head. A solidly sapphire ring glistened on her ring finger.  
  
"Then you are married to the skull aqua sept." said the red-sashed boy. A girl, with a blue sash over her shoulder, stepped forward to address the girl.  
  
"I am Skull Aqua Alfa. I shall be your sept leader and teacher. Your designation among us shall now be Skull Aqua Theta. Welcome." The girls flowing voice soothed the nervousness of many in the room, and the new- inductee fairly skipped to her new teacher.  
  
The rod was passed to the next student, and the next student, a boy, said the spiritually binding oaths that would connect him to he Psi for however long he lived. His ring was ruby.  
  
"You are married to the Skull Pyro sept. I am Skull Pyro Alfa, your new sept leader and teacher. Your new designation is Skull Pyro Omega. Welcome," said the red-sashed boy. A few white-robed figures in the crowd motioned him over as he too passed the oath rod to another.  
  
One by one they joined the Skull squadron, and different septs within it. Aqua, Pyro, Earthian, Faile, and Psi, each represented with a ring in sapphire, ruby, emerald, amber, and amethyst, respectively.  
  
Once they were 'sorted', Ron suppressed the smile at his little mental joke, Ron Finished his speech.  
  
"New members, you are the blind ones. Soon you will begin your training into the world of sight, but for now, the basics. You are all now a part of the Skull Squadron, the group of Psi that assembles here. There are many Squadrons, all over the world, do not ever make the mistake that we are alone! In turn, you have been separated further into septs. Each sept has a leader, indicated by a colored sash. You report to them. They report to me, the Skull Squadron commander, or as Pyro Alfa so affectionately dubbed me, Skull One. Each sept is geared to your talents, wherever they may be, Aqua relates to water, Pyro to fire, Earthian to the earth, Faile to air, and Psi to the powers of the mind. Welcome to the Order."  
  
With that, Ron ended, sending the blind ones to learn details of their sept from their sept leaders. Quietly, he erased the memories of their faces from everyone in the room. Should they look back on this night, they would only know girl or boy. It was important none of them knew their comrades in the "real world", it would ruin the equality they had with each other, here, in the Hall of Psi.  
  
After a time, he adjourned the induction meeting, and sent everyone to bed. Ron himself, dropped into his four-poster in the fifth year boy's dorms. 'God, that uniform gets stuffy.' He thought, and without anymore thinking, drifted into sleep. 


	2. second chappie I hate making up titles

I got a few reviews so I decided to type the rest of this up bit by bit. (I have writer's block of the worst kind right now... It's not cool. But luckily, I wrote this just before that hit!) The entire thing is written, just not typed. I really never intended to post it when I started the entire thing, but I guess I just decided to on impulse and now I have to finish. So, here's the next part. CatC10  
  
"Feels just like I'm walking on bro-ken glass!!" sang Ron, a bit off key, loud as he could, while dancing around on his bed.  
  
"Shut up, Ron!" Shouted Dean, ripping the pillow out from under his head and hurtling it towards Ron. Ron dodged easily, not only because Dean had god-awful aim, but because he was half asleep and his muscles were stiff from sleeping on his stomach.  
  
"Yeah! You screeching is just about killing me!" added Seamus.  
  
Just as the pair rose, on the warpath to kill Ron, Harry groaned, stopping everyone's movements.  
  
Harry had been grumpy every morning since the term started, and many Griffindors were beginning to fear the daily grind. Harry swung his legs over the side of the bed, hissing when his foot his the frigid stone floor.  
  
"Hey, Harry." Said Ron experimentally; praying Harry hadn't had another nightmare.  
  
"No." muttered the groggy raven-haired teen, scratching the bird's nest on his head. Ron gave Harry a concerned glance that he didn't catch.  
  
Poor Harry.  
  
Luckily for everyone, Harry was in better temperament come lunch, evident in the fact that he all but dragged the other two of the golden trio to the table.  
  
"My dream, last night. I think Voldemort wants to get into Hogwarts." Ron and Hermione choked on their food for a moment, and quickly swallowed their food before beginning the 'cross-examination' of what he'd seen.  
  
"What do you mean, Harry?" asked Hermione. Harry mulled over it for a moment, and decided how to word his news very carefully.  
  
"I mean, what I saw last night was strange...Voldemort wasn't angry or particularly pleased...but one of the death eaters talked to him. He said that he, well here's the strange part...He said he sensed something-some object- that was really powerful in Hogwarts." He said.  
  
"So?" asked Ron, "There are a lot of really powerful things here Harry. Voldemort hasn't come after them yet, why is it so different?" Ron said the name quick, only having just begun using it. With a shudder, he looked at Harry.  
  
"He has a point, Harry. Remember in first year, with the sorcerer's stone? That was the only thing Dumbledore had in hiding that Voldemort wanted- what else could he possibly need?" Hermione asked, taking a bit from a cracker, and a sip from her pumpkin juice.  
  
"Well," said Harry, "This thing- whatever it is- is powerful enough to crack the earth in two, for one."  
  
"Oh." Said the now-not-so-skeptical duo.  
  
"I say we talk to Dumbledore." Stated Ron, gaining a look from his friends.  
  
Yeah, that seemed like a good stopping point, maybe I'll type more tomorrow. Or in a few months, depends. For those who asked: Ron was previously a part of the Psi sept, but once he became commander, he was officially 'outside' the septs. A part of none- in control of all, it was considered a good test of character if they (being the commanders) could hold their post with out prejudice or favoritism. If anyone needs a rundown of how the Psi work or Psi history (What I've made of it): e-mail me. Most of it will probably be answered in the next chapter, though, as far as rank goes.  
  
I drew pictures of the Psi emblem, I need to get my friend to help me scan them and put them on her site so ya'll can see them. (Don't nag on my ya'll. I'm Texan.) JEN!!  
  
That being said- catc10yahoo.com 


	3. third chappieexplains stuff

Yeah. I'm typing more, apparently. I had a lot of fun today, so, you know how it goes. Domino effect.  
  
Ron gazed out at the training blind ones. Pyro Alfa was tracing his to harness a blue flame. It was amusing, for Ron, to see their lips pinched in concentration. When they finally made a blue spark from the sunset colored flames, they jumped back in surprise and the entire thing would go out.  
  
Briefly he wondered what would happen to them when they reached an age to become higher level Psi.  
  
When you were 'Junior Psi', any Psi under the age of 17, you were trained to use Psi power, the odd element harnessing power of the human brain, until you could raise no more levels, like himself.  
  
On that point, he drew the power symbols in his head. The simple eye- shaped mark on their foreheads and hats that told what rank you'd achieved.  
  
The first was a simple 'blind' eye. Symbolizing someone who had only just been initiated.  
  
The first actual level, 'one lash', what you gained when you could harness the power at will without strain. With this level you could begin to 'see'.  
  
The second level, 'three lashes', you have mastered basic skills sufficiently, and you receive this rank.  
  
The third level, 'Four lashes', had the three lashes above the eye, one below, and still no pupil. This level symbolized the beginning of mastery for intermediate techniques.  
  
The fourth level, 'six lashes', five lashed above, one below, and still no pupil. Symbolized the Psi-child was now able to begin learning the basic techniques of a secondary sept.  
  
The fifth level, 'eight lashes', five above, three below, and no pupil still. Holding the meaning that the Psi has reputable strength in both trained septs, and can now be considered to be a sept leader. Many Psi considered this to be the final level, because out of an entire Squadron of Psi, only one or two may ever go beyond it.  
  
The sixth level, 'swirls', all of the above features, with only the addition of two swirl like marks to either side of the eye. Whomsoever reaches this level is to be a highly respected Psi, because the amount of training needed to attain the swirls is great. Many who were not satisfied at the fifth level, died trying to reach it.  
  
The seventh level, 'sight'. Level of legend, for it had not been reached in over 300 years. The methods for attaining it are unknown, but only the few who'd ever reached it were allowed to lead other Psi into battle.  
  
Ron was sixth level himself, and didn't have much hope of reaching the seventh. He doubted anyone ever would. It was lost to the Psi. He was fairly sure, anyway.  
  
A cheer from the Aqua sept upset his thoughts. One of the blind ones had raised a level, and could now essentially 'see'. He smiled for the girl, leaping into her friend's arms. If he wasn't mistaken, the two never spoke outside of meetings.  
  
Mainly because he was a muggle from a not-so-close town, and she was Slytherin.  
  
Yes. I'm stopping there for now. Bug me some and I might type up more before the passing of a blue moon. Laterz. 


	4. next little bit

Okay, here I am again, typing this story because I feel really guilty about going on the Internet. Have fun reading.  
  
It was a month later, after Dumbledore assured them that he had no such object in his, or the school's possession, that Hermione had the boys doing research in the library for any magical item that may have contained the power Harry had described. Needless to say, given the enormity of Hogwarts' library, and Hermione's determination, it was a difficult going of things.  
  
Another discouraging aspect of their search was the fact that the list already compiled was several scrolls long, even with Hermione's meticulously tiny handwriting. Ron was beginning to wonder if the pain behind his eyes was what his mother called a 'migr Heaving a sigh, Harry closed the volume of 'Magical calamities' that he'd been researching.  
  
"Well," he said, "I've got to head out to practice. Our match against Hufflepuff is next week and Alicia is having us out at any convenient spare moment. See you two in the common room later?"  
  
"So that's where you've been off to, mate. Nearly had me convinced you'd gotten a girl." Ron joked with a grin, glad for any reason to look up from dusty pages. Madam Pince quickly shushed him when he began howling at Harry's flustered red face.  
  
Hermione sighed, and swatted him off. "Fine, if Quiddich is more important than the safety of our world, then go ahead and leave. You just wait until the end comes crashing down on us who knows how fast, and we're not prepared!" Ron and Harry looked at one another and both exited. "Hey!" she called, but was ignored.  
  
"Want to come watch practice?" Harry asked Ron once the pair was out of the Corridor.  
  
"Nah, I think I'll pass. I'm headed to the common to relax a little. What a slave driver!" Harry laughed his agreement.  
  
The girl interested Ron. During the daylight hours, she was spiteful, mean, and an all-around pain. But as aqua-theta, the Aquarian Psi, she was helpful, caring, kind, and just. The rift between personalities was like a chasm that could only be crossed by the death of either Sun or Moon.  
  
I was really amazing how loud she shrieked for aqua-delta, her male muggle friend, when he raised, no only one, but two levels straight away. She had jumped him in joy, both nearly collapsing under the weight of two people.  
  
'Remarkable' He thought, 'How love of sorts, has bloomed as face values have been stripped away and hidden, when they would have caused a wall of hate.' Then he felt a familiar pulse in his mind and turned to face a new fourth level, or rather, a boy who would be fourth level in a few more moments.  
  
A small power surge halted all other training and the Psi sept third level jumped to fourth.  
  
"Very good...Now, can any of you tell me how a few of us knew he was to jump?" Ron asked the younger members. Carefully a few began to raise their hands...Mentally stretching, he reminded himself he still had a long way to go before he reached his bed this night.  
  
This is where it ends today. Fun, no? Yeah. I'm...sleepy. 'g'night. 


	5. nother little bitnot so little

Okay, again I'm continuing this story late at night, because I have nothing better to do. That and my parents want help and whomsoever is the least busy out of my brother, sister and I is always the one roped into it. And I hate work, and having to go to ACC (Austin Community College) over summer is really making me feel down. So, on with the madness!  
  
"I had another dream!" hissed Harry at breakfast, halting the movement of forks to mouths for his friends Hermione and Ron.  
  
"What happened?" asked Hermione, "We really need more information if we're ever going to figure out what exactly this thing is that we're searching for!"  
  
"Well, we've been bought some time to search for it, Voldemort, oh Ron honestly, stop shaking it's just a name! Voldemort doesn't know what it is either! But, it gave a brief power surge too, so he's even more determined to find it, what ever it is." Harry told them, leaning forward as he spoke, getting a sleeve dangerously close to his eggs.  
  
He drowned his pumpkin juice as Hermione hummed a bit, pulling out a small notebook and making a mark. "I think...well, too soon to tell. Did the dream tell you anything else?"  
  
Harry gave her a flat look and began to eat again without answering.  
  
With a triumphant shout, Harry's hand closed over the struggling snitch. Ron leapt to his feet, throwing his hands into the air and screaming himself hoarse and still having his voice drowned out by the crowd! Griffindor beat Hufflepuff and was in the running for Quiddich Cup! Sure, that meant they had to face Slytherin, but that was to be expected.  
  
Ron looked across the stands and stiffly glared at the booing serpents. Aqua-theta's dark hair was frizzy in the chilly weather, and she was spouting cruel remarks with the best of them. He turned away to see Hermione looking at him questioningly.  
  
"Funny how they haven't figured it out yet." He said to her, voice only slightly rough.  
  
"It is, isn't it?" she said. Of course, when they both started laughing, only Ron knew how funny it really was.  
  
"Boys!" squealed Hermione. She seemed to be in a very urgent mood, because she was rushing up to them in the Great Hall. And Hermione always tried her best to be tranquil.  
  
"Herm!" Ron gritted out between his teeth. It was breakfast time on the day of the match against Slytherin. Harry was a ball of nerves, and wasn't eating, even though he'd beaten their house rivals before.  
  
Harry gave them a weak smile that did not encourage them. "Don't worry about it." Harry murmured. "I've beaten them before, lots of times." Ron's lips thinned a bit and he gave Hermione a pleading look. Her resolve dissolved.  
  
"Fine. It can wait."  
  
I debated stopping here for today...and then decided that I still didn't want to get pulled into working. You lucky person you!  
  
Fred and George threw just about the largest Cup party yet. Refreshments and Butterbeer littered the common room's small study tables, and even McGonnagle couldn't yell them into submission. Hermione's important message was forgotten in the haze of victory.  
  
Ron lazily picked himself up off the trashed floor and headed toward the portrait hole.  
  
"Ron! Where you going, mate?" asked a woozy George. Or, at least, Ron thought it was George, he never had Bill's knack of telling to two apart. No one did.  
  
Harry and Hermione looked up as well.  
  
"Out for a bit. The party is great, no doubt! But I'm getting a headache from all the shouting. Hopefully the blasted thing will go away by the time I'm back for more celebration!" Ron answered his brother.  
  
"Okay, well, come back soon, and don't get caught by filch!" Hermione called after him as the portrait swung shut to slam somewhat quietly behind him.  
  
He really only planned on walking about in the corridors, but his feet wandered down to the entrance hall and out the large oak double doors before he really got a hold of himself. It was REALLY cold out, tonight.  
  
Ron strolled into the gardens, admiring the twinkling diamond and ruby stars. Then, out of the shadows beyond the next twist in the path, was a sniffle.  
  
Immediately, Ron's crunching footsteps halted, and he waited.  
Another pathetic attempt was made to cover up the sound evidence of tears. Ron crept around the corner as quietly as he could. And then a pebble shifted under his foot and a scraping sound ripped the near-silence.  
  
The girl's dark head snapped up to glare at him, an red-headed gangly teen, trying to sneak up to her, looking like a child with his hand in the cookie jar.  
  
Ron saw Aqua-Theta.  
  
"What do you want, Griffindor?" she spat, the effect lost because she was still wiping her nose with her sleeve.  
  
"Why are you crying?" Ron asked the first year innocently, stepping out into her sights completely, and praying she didn't try to curse him. What luck as to not have his wand with him! She was a little more than upset at being interrupted in her reverie.  
  
"Why should you care, weasel?!" She tried, yet again, in vain, to be left alone.  
  
Ron glanced at the ground and folded his hands behind his back. He stepped toward the hard stone bench she sat upon, and took his leisure to set himself next to her. At a respectable distance, of course.  
  
She scoffed, err, tried to scoff at him, and scoot away, and found a strong arm around her shoulders. Her half hearted attempts to push the offending appendage and it's attached body away from her were fruitless. She turned her face to his and opened her mouth to yell and tell him off, and choked.  
  
He was giving her a look.  
  
"Why shouldn't I care, Aqua-Theta?"  
  
A nearly full moon framed his hair, giving it a blue glow like the Pyro Sept's special blue flames made by a blind one—Red at the bottom, but fringes of blue around it in a halo of light.  
  
"How do you know that name?" she asked quietly. Voice all but stolen away.  
  
"There are two people in the Order who would know your name. So tell me, who am I?" He asked her, using the calm tones he used in their meetings.  
  
Briefly her mind went blank. Her mouth dried, and she desperately scrounged her mind for anything. Aqua-Alfa! But, Aqua-Alfa was a girl, so...it clicked and she gasped.  
  
"Skull-sk-skull One! You're Skull One!" She sputtered.  
  
"Yes." Her eyes widened. Skull One was sixth level! She admired him, and he was a Griffindor?! "Now, tell me...Why was out little seeing one crying?" Skull One asked, concerned for the dark haired girl. It was evident in his father-like tone.  
  
"Slytherin lost, now everyone in the common room is being, well, really hostile toward each other. It's just so...so...LONELY! We never seem to get along without some sort of false face! We have to be the best! And it just...You can't make any friends. Only allies in a cause."  
  
"You know, Theta, I've seen the way you insult others for fun with your friends. And I can't help seeing the seriousness in your eyes that sears straight to your heart. And then I think to myself: How ironic. If is not a hidden fact many Slytherins see mostly face value of a person, but look who you befriend when face value isn't an option."  
  
"What do you mean? The Order is just a bunch of Hogwarts students, right? We're just learning to use our magic differently, and depending on which house we're in, we go to a different Sept, right?" she wondered, asking for answers most never even speculate.  
  
"Wrong!" Skull One laughed, "Muggles can be Psi, it's just as likely as wizards can be. Aqua-Delta is a perfect example of that. And look, you get on better with him then any other person on this campus! We are all around the world, in fact, I have to attend an international meeting in three weeks."  
  
Aqua-Theta gave Ron the most shocked look he'd ever been given...  
  
"What do I do, then?"  
  
"Anything you think you should do, nothing more—But if you should do it, don't hesitate to. You never know when you'll be too late." He told her, stroking her hair and tucking a few loose bits behind her ears.  
  
She straightened, tears dry, to face forward and gaze faintly at the dark forest, with its menacing shadows and deep mystery. "I guess so..."  
  
Ron rose and held out his hand to the young girl.  
  
"Let's go, Theta."  
  
She let him lead her away back to the warm castle halls.  
  
Yeah. Now I have to leave off. I think this is the longest part yet! By a few pages at least! BAH! Time to go take a bath! I have exams tomorrow! (Well, actually, it's supposed to be an exam, but the teacher is too lazy to make one, so really it's more of a party with the exams resuming the next day...oh well. 


	6. HAHha! my friend got me to type more!

Typing more now...why? My friend has called me and she reviewed so I think I owe it to her. Which is weird, 'cause she sort of half way beta'ed this and she already knows what happens in the end anyway! Yeah... Anyhow, on with this!  
  
Ron returned to the common room an hour after he had left. The party was over, and the dim ember in the grate let out a low, sensual, yet foreboding glow over the two morose figures on the couch and lighting the stonewalls with rosy auras. Harry looked up to him as he entered the portrait hole.  
  
"Ron, your back." Harry stated, his eyes tired, and disturbed, "Come have a look at this. Hermione's discovered something. The dates I have my dreams. They seem to be, specific...like clockwork."  
  
"Every Tuesday and Thursday, along with every other 15th of the month." Hermione specified. She went on to explain how she'd come to this startling fact when she saw Ron's expression. "Ron? Are you alright?" Ron snapped to attention like a doe in the headlights of a speeding suburban.  
  
Harry's dreams...they came when the Psi meetings took place. This was just a little too odd to be coincidence.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. What does all of that mean, Herm?" He asked, coming out of his stupor. Hermione rolled her eyes at Ron and began explaining ho Harry may be being given the dreams by an outside source, say, He-who-must- not-be-named, or perhaps by some strange spacial pulse the item worked on the oddest schedule that ever existed. Ron feigned attention.  
  
'I must speak over this with the international senior representatives. Maybe one of them will know! This is a matter of the highest priority!'  
  
The room was lit nicely, as far as Ron could tell. But then again, his Psi hood prevented him from physically seeing in any sense, it fell over his head from the nape of his neck to almost the top ridge of his lips. What he or any other Psi saw though the hood was merely an impression of what was really there. For all he knew, it could have been pitch black. It did not matter in all honesty.  
  
He reclined in the black leather seat he rested on, and prepared himself to wait patiently as Mercury Squadron commander finished speaking on his recruit's numbers and levels and all the other things they were required to speak upon. Pushing the dream schedule to the back of his thoughts, Ron heaved a sigh and stood. His own presentation was to begin now.  
  
"Skull Squadron commander—Level six." He began, waiting for the intake of breath that always followed his introduction, "As always, we have run into few difficulties. Skull Squadron has twelve new members—most of which whom can now 'see.'  
"Our Martial Arts training has gone better this year than the previous and—Yes, your question?" Ron said, pausing as Halo-Squad commander raised his hand. Already the other commander was giving him a headache!  
  
"I still do not see, Skull-one was it that you liked to be called? Yes, well, I still do not see, Skull-one, why do Psi need to learn how to fight? We haven't had anyone who could lead us to battle in over 300 years, besides which, why would we need to? As far as I can tell, Skull-one, your teaching you adepts to fight is to put it nicely—Ridiculous. Utterly, ridiculous."  
  
Ron, through his hood, gave Halo Squadron commander a flat stare. The flattest, most know it all stare he could muster.  
  
"Are you muggle?" He asked.  
  
"What? I beg your pardon?"  
  
"The answer I yes, then. You, and I'm assuming at least some of the others here, are muggle.  
  
"What does that mean? You ask? Well, a muggle is a non-magical person. This," said Ron in a business tone that would have fooled even Harry, "is a magic wand." Ron held up the instrument, pointing it like a fencer's sword toward the offending commander.  
  
"You're delusional!" Cried Crypt Squadron commander.  
  
"No, I'm not. See this?" Ron asked, pointing to his level insignia on the hood's forehead. "It glows when the wearer uses Psi power, yes? Now watch. Wingardum Leviosa!" Ron shouted, making a swish-and-flick movement with the polished piece of wood. And Halo commander floated lightly upwards until his head gently tapped the ceiling.  
  
"LET ME DOWN! LET ME DOWN!!!! HOW IN THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING THIS?!! LET ME DOWN!!" Halo commander screamed, drowning out several other scared Muggles.  
  
Ron let the boy down again, and when all was quiet, began to speak. "We are wizards and witches in a world you cannot see, in a loud community that fall deaf on your ears. We live in a place where you cannot taste or touch us because we use chaos itself to make you forget. As it is, our world has just fallen waist deep into a war it refuses to believe is happening. Because of our location, it is more that beneficial that my squad learn the technique we all used to apply. It is more than a good idea. It is a necessary knowledge. Why?  
  
"Because the enemy is this war will kill you and not care. You, well you may be mostly safe from them. We're not." Ron sighed a sigh that made him seem much older than he actually was, and sat in the leather seat once more. Groaning, Ron realized how little sleep he'd gotten over the last week, and set his face in the palms of his hands, resting the weight on his elbows. He felt very...stiff.  
  
"Magic is real? Well, with all of the Psi, I suppose that that's not that inconceivable..." said one from the group of muggle commanders huddled together.  
  
"Yes, actually. I'm not that much in denial. It feels much more like shock." Said Xian-pu commander in his Chinese accented voice.  
  
Ron rolled his head about his neck, and then resumed his previous position. "I'm not done." He muttered, only just loud enough to be heard.  
  
The gathered junior Psi looked at him, conversation stopped. Ron turned his shaded gaze to the elder Psi across the hall, separated by a thin Psi sept style sound barrier. He gave it a small mental push, easily breaking it.  
  
"Hey!" Ron called to them, stopping two who had risen from their seats. "We have a major situation over here, and are requesting assitance!" Ron hoped that the elder Psi did not ignore them, as they usually did, it tended to cause the junior's to have a grudge.  
  
They elder Psi gave him dissaprooving gazes, and he countered with flattening his features to be calm. They hated having someone calmer then them ask for help. "I'm not joking. I go to Hogwarts, the same school as Harry Potter, and he's been having nightmares about a magical something in its walls with enough power to destroy the planet."  
  
The few wizarding elder Psi backed up in disbelief. Then one of them, Hawk commander, spoke. "So? What can we do about it? Its not as though we'll be able to anything. We are not able to go into battle without a seventh level with us. I don't think I need to point out that there are none!" Hawk was usually calm—Ron had hit a nerve.  
  
"Please let me finish. This, thing, may not be a thing at all, or it may be a thing that feeds off Psi power. We know this because it leaps in power on the days that the skull-squadron meets. Brief jumps whenever Psi power is used on the grounds. Elders, do you know of any such object? DO you know if it can be deactivated? What it will do? If not, then Hogwarts wil be attacked! The students there will be killed! My FAMILY will be slaughtered!" Ron slumped down, 'odd, when did I stand up?' he thought, suddenly very exhausted.  
  
The elders looked at each other then at Ron. "I'm very sorry, Skull Squadron commander. We know of no such object." Said Xian-ye commander.  
  
After this, no one said much, and Ron seemed to withdraw into himself even more so than usual. (He was known for being a very quiet and calm leader.) Eventually, the meeting ended, all the Psi leaving held an air of pity or sadness for the strong teen leaning against the wall, Ron having settled there when everyone else cleaned up.  
  
One of the elder Psi laid a hand on Ron's shoulder before transporting away. Ron did not find comfort in it.  
  
I think that's where this chapter will end. It was so late when I started it, that I had to come back to it today to finish typing the last parts of it. So yeah, we've still found nothing out about this object that Voldemort wants, what is it? WHAT CAN IT BE?!?! To bad I'm not telling you, yet! ME 


	7. Hogwarts attacked!

I suppose I can type another chapter tonight. I just came back from a graduation party for my friend and read a few good fanfictions elsewhere on this site, so I figure: Why not? I also had a fun conversation with my friend Knives (it's a nickname) about Amazonian women.  
  
Ron batted away Harry's persistent hand away the next morning. "Ron! C'mon, mate, get up!" Harry cried. His pleas were urgent, but Ron felt that for once maybe his world could revolve around him. This train of thought kept him lazily pushing Harry's hand tricky digits away. With an aggravated scream, Harry turned away and stormed out in a rush.  
  
Ron settled down into his sheets again, glad for the weekend's timing. He was exhausted to his bones. Just as he arrived to the edge between wakefulness and unconsciousness, though, mattress molded to his body in such a way that he could not tell where he ended and it began, a screeching siren blared into every room in the castle.  
  
"BAAAHH!!!!!!!" Ron shouted, tumbling into a great mass of fluff on the floor next to his bed. "Whatinthe? Whyisthe? WHAT IN THE NAME OF MERLIN'S BEARD IS GOING ON HERE?!?!?!?!"  
  
Sliding into some spare clothes at the foot of his bed, Ron scrambled out the dormitory into the common room still trying to shove feet into shoes. Abruptly the siren ceased and McGonnagle's shrilly voice replaced it.  
  
"Everyone meet down in the Great Hall immediately! Hogwarts is under attack! I repeat: Hogwarts is under attack!" Ron gaped at the speaking ceiling. Rushing to the portrait hole, he stopped, pushed back through the crowd, and dashed up the dormitory stairs. Ron snatched the wand off the dresser, and clambered back out again.  
  
Important author note!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I know, I know! It's short!!! But I need your opinions on something!! After the next little installment of the fic, I'm thinking of having a contest! Basically, I'd have you finish the fic from where I leave off. Which ever I like best gets posted, along with the version I've already written up by me. (I only expect maybe 3 entries, really...and that's only if my two loyal reviewers come through for me, the other would be my friend from the phone call.) You'd be allowed to do pretty much whatever you wanted, with however much time you need to actually do it. I need your opinions on this happening, yes or no, and the amount of time you think you'd need if you actually wanted to do it. One week, two? I have no real clue. I just want to make something fun for all of you out there who, gasp, actually like my writing. What do ya'll think? ME, aka: catc10, who loves all those that review cause they make her feel special. 


	8. Reposted chapter! Contest rules! please ...

I'm so sorry this is so late!!! We just attempted to get a new desk for me so my comp got disconnected for a bit, then my little green book got lost. That's where I wrote this thing. Well, news, news: There shall indeed be a contest! Entries are to be sent to my e-mail, rules will be posted at my ending author note! So, onward! (And for the one reviewer who was wondering, Harry probably wouldn't have left Ron during such an emergency, but he still had to tell Dumbledore, and he felt he couldn't wait just for Ron to get up.)

"So your awake NOW?" muttered Harry to Ron darkly, glaring at him from under his dark eyelashes. Ron sighed; Harry's early morning grumpiness was making itself present, again.

"I'm sorry, mate! I was exhausted from all that bloody potions homework! I really just didn't want to do anything at the moment and—"

"It's alright, Ron." Harry cut him off, more subdued than before. Ron made a point of looking at his sneakers as his blush slowly crawled down his neck. A tapping of a fork on one of the crystal water pitchers from the staff table brought welcome distraction.

"Calm, calm everyone." Asked everyone, "If I may ask for all of your attention? As you have been informed of already, Hogwarts in grave danger. Voldemort has gathered his troops for an attack against us. From what we've gathered, it is a retrieval mission. For what, we do not know, what ever it is though, is powerful enough to conquer, or destroy, the world. How such an object came to be on our grounds I do not know. But it is here, and now we MUST defend it to keep it from Voldemort's clutches.

"But, saddest to say, seventh years, is that we must also depend on those of you able, to fight with us. Their numbers will be too great of us instructors to face alone, and with you as the most experienced of the students..." Dumbledore trailed off so the students could finish his thought on their own. Eventually a Hufflepuff raised a delicate hand.

"Can't we just apparate or portkey or even FLOO to someplace else? Somewhere safe?" She asked, her brown eyes pleading, open, and above all, scared.

Dumbledore's brow crinkled in remorse for her, but told her truthfully: "We have wards against doing those things here. Maybe if we'd had an hour earlier notice, we'd have had been able to get to the village and away—but as it was, we could only get one owl to the village before the death eaters managed to take hold of the woods..."

His answer was met with silence. Utter quiet. One or two people shifted uncomfortably, then one girl began to cry, a high wail from the Ravenclaw table. It started a chain reaction, and next he knew, Ron was comforting Ginny on one shoulder, and for some reason unknown to himself, Parvarti on the other. Most of the seventh years were shifting about in disarray, wondering what they were supposed to do.

"We'll do it!" said Fred, standing to face the professors.

"What do you want us to do?" chorused George imitating his twin's pose.

McGonnagle gave both a relieved smile. "We need seventh years to help Professor Flitwick with a barricade around the school. I you helped with that it would be wonderful." The twins nodded at her and headed for the doors when Flitwick left his chair and motioned for them to follow. Then Fred motioned for them to stop.

"Well?" He said, turning back to the rest of the students, "Are any of the rest of you coming?" With jerky actions, a dozen or so more students straightened up and trekked with the twins out the doors.

Ron could feel his heartstrings pulling at the two, and Lee Jordan shivered as he shut the Great Hall doors.

It was quiet. The assembled students in the Great Hall were either silent and fidgeting, or silent and staring blankly at the stones across them or beneath their feet. Ron gazed out at the soon-to-be-battlefield through magicked looking glasses, the real Mad-eye Moody strictly believed in showing exactly what was going on to the younger students, when before his eyes settled on the two head seventh year warriors. Fred and George. It seemed as though their display of pulling others into helping somehow had them pegged as leaders. Ron wasn't sure as to if this was good, or very, very bad.

Without sound, they were readying the wall barrier, checking it, and using tricky flicks of their wrists to set more stones in place. Ron's heart strained to reach them, and Cho Chang spun about next to them. She seemed to have seen something.

"Harry." Ron said, calling his friend over with a whisper in the tense Hall. His and Harry's eyes met and Ron pointed to shifting darkness beyond the foreboding trees. "They're here." Harry nodded grimly and with a fierce blaze in his eyes turned to Dumbledore and Snape, both of which were muttering under their breath at some maps spelled to show the battleground and it's current status.

"Get everyone to their positions!" he yelled at the pair, startled out of their reverie. "The death eaters are here, no more preparations can be made!"

It was as though all the tension had dissipated, to nothing. Worry still coated everyone in the room, but determination to stay alive drove the fear away. Tear tracks dried with tears halfway down red cheeks.

A torrent of shouts from outside the walls made Rom focus his attentions to the mirror. The death eater's curses were flying like muggle bullets across the grounds, only a few were stopped by the barrier. Ron was far more occupied with two red heads apparently shouting orders he couldn't hear.

Fred and George were alternately ordering others around and bellowing curses and hexes with the best of them, hauling up their frightened peers from where they'd fallen in shock, putting wands in their back into their hands, and setting them back to work. Sometimes healing those hit, or back to fighting again.

'Such beautiful flashing colors,' Ron thought. 'I never knew things so beautiful could be so violent.' As his sense of hopelessness grew, so did his philosophical thought. 'It looks like chaos down there, but looking at it, there is an order to it...Fire, duck, fire, shout, fire, fire, scream.'

The battle raged for what seemed eternities. The echo of fighting engulfed the Hall while the image of blood spatted the mirror. Violent pictured swam in his consciousness, mostly of the battle before him, but some seemed a little, off. Tinted brown as if with age. Weapons mixed with wands, swords, axes, pikes, lances, crossbows, and arrows. More modern artillery of guns and missiles, bombs, and dynamite appeared in his vision, showering fire on the soldiers below, around, about them.

Ron felt it, like a pulse beneath his skin.

The order of chaos o the ground began to beat to it.

Then the coherent screams of death registered. Most pleading to God for answers, all a part of the odd pulse.

'You know,' Ron thought calmly into the whirlwind of images attacking his mind, 'We always seem to be searching for a way out. We fight, find peace, fight, find peace. Never ending warfare. One giant huge circle.'

The pulse became a heavy bass beat, and Justin Flitch-Fletchly fell to his knees, clutching his head.

'We always go in circles, don't we?' Ron thought, all his confused emotions congealing into a single statement. 'Humans dance around in violent circles trying to find an end we have no hope of ever reaching, because we're all in never ending hoops, and all we wish for is it's end.' With a bitter laugh, Ron ended this line of thinking. 'Ironic that all we want for is life, yet we yearn for its end.'

Like a heart monitor's flat line, the beat suddenly stopped ending. It was just one, long, drawn out crescendo.

And Ron became aware of power. His power. A sweetness bordering on pain. Justin rose from the ground, knees shaking and trembling in the shoulders.

Ron looked into the mirror again—to the ghost like picture that was the reflection of everyone watching the images it projected. On his own forehead was a blue white blazing dot.

His pupil.

He had jumped.

Yeah, I stopped it a little sooner than originally planned, I thought it would be a good spot. Ron jumping to the legendary level seven just seems to put me in a writing mood. So here you go! Partake in the contest!

Rule 1) have fun with it! As long as no Mary sues show up, you'll do fine!

Rule 2) I don't care how long it is as long as it's all in one piece!

Rule 3) Please make sure you leave a name with your entry! I would hate not knowing who to give credit to!

General info: submit entries to my e-mail, , also on my profile. Put something I would recognize as an entry in the subject bar. All entries will be given due consideration, no matter how bad your spelling is! I will fix little things like that! As previously stated, I don't expect too many, so if you enter with a serious attempt, then you have a good shot at winning. The winning entry will be posted, along with the author's screen name, and then the 'official' ending of mine will be posted after it! Thank you all who participate!

I will wait for however long I feel I must, if the winner isn't posted, you can still enter!


	9. Contest winner!

WEEE!!! Contest winner!!! Sorry it took forever, literally, but my comp has been on the verge of breaking for the better part of what feels like six months. The winning author is Mathias! Congrats, dude! (I find it really funny how I thought about it and realized that even if the winner is a chick I would still say dude...ANYHOW!) READ ON!

Ron stared across the battlefield. His new power, the seventh level of "Sight", let him view the battle with different eyes. When he had finished with the jump, time itself seemed to pause in anticipation of the power. Ron, calm in the face of the fight, viewed the battle with a critical eye. Curses, charms, battle spells - they were all but colored lights. Each one frozen in time.

Ron knew what he had to do. The level of Sight was only called on in great need, for a great purpose, like this one. He stared at the wand in his right hand and switched it to his left.

The Seer opened his right hand, using the knowledge that came with the sight to summon a sword. This wasn't just any sword, however. This sword is the sword that every seventh level learned to summon, the Sword of Battle. There was a reason why only seventh levels could obtain it.

It needed the power of Aqua, Pyro, Faile, Earthian, and Psi, all channeled in one person, to summon.

Only those at the level of sight could use all five.

Created from the metal of Earthian, forged with the flames of Pyro, breathed upon by the air of Faile, cooled by the water of Aqua, and bound by the spirit of Psi. That was what the Sword of Battle was. A connection of all five was needed to draw it.

He landed on the ground, right next to Justin. This one was also known as Skull Pyro Alpha, a fifth level. The jump of Ron, however, triggered a domino effect and forced Justin to jump prematurely. It was needed though. Time returned to its original state when he reached the boy.

"Skull Pyro Alpha." He grasped Justin's arm. "You have jumped to the sixth level. You are now designated Skull Two and will be my second-in-command." The boy turned to look at Ron, nay, Skull One. "I am Skull One. The time for battle has come."

"To arms." Skull Two, formerly Justin Flitch-Fletchly, whispered.

Skull One raised the Sword of Battle into the sky, catching the attention of everyone on the battlefield and then some. "To arms, Skull Sect! The time of battle has come! By order of Skull One, Seventh Level of Sight, I order you! Fight!"

The effect was instantaneous. The first thing that caught everyone's attention was when a Syltherin girl raised a column of blue fire, several meters tall. It absorbed the spells flung at it and headed toward the Death Eaters, surprisingly enough freezing several in place while scorching others.

That was when all hell broke loose.

Right at Skull One's side, Skull Two followed, along with others. Skull One used the Sword of Battle to deflect curses. He heard Skull Faile Alpha fall and grimaced. She was the only other level five they had. Skull Aqua Alpha, Skull Psi Alpha, and Skull Earthian Alpha were Muggles and wouldn't be here.

"Skull Two! Tend to Faile Alpha until reinforcements arrive! Aqua Theta, Faile Omega, Psi Pi! Up front! Aqua Lambda, Pyro Omega, Earthian Delta! Tend to the wounded! Earthian Gamma, Psi Beta! Tell the damn witches and wizards to stop staring and help us! Everyone else, cover fire!" Skull One grunted as a spell went past his defenses and sent a flash of pain through his leg. Healing Sight helped fix that, but he looked around. Pyro Omega had retreated with Faile Alpha, but there wasn't much else. He tried not to remind himself that some of them were first-years. He really did. However battle wasn't where he was supposed to worry.

Skull One sent a flare tornado forward, with hidden surprised of earth spikes. Skull Two was back again, an eastern dragon of fire coiling around several more Death Eaters.

Aqua Theta had released a watery version of that attack, though she was quickly wounded by several spells. Aqua Lambda retrieved her as several curses from Hogwarts started aiding them.

Mouth set into a grim line, Skull One focused his sight. With the Skull Sect covering him, Skull One would have the time to get done what he needed to get done.

A minute later, Skull One snapped his hand open and a wave of hot air blew many Death Eaters away. Standing strong, Skull One crossed the threshold of the enemy and all battle paused.

"Where's your leader?" He asked coolly, snapping a finger and freezing one Death Eater completely solid with his wand half-way out.

A familiar person stepped out, blonde, with cold eyes. "If it isn't the Weasel child."

"Lucius Malfoy." Skull One said slowly. "Voldemort cannot come here himself to obtain that power which he so seeks?"

It seems that the man didn't have a reply. Except, of course, for a nameless curse that Skull One ducked under. He retaliated with a jet of flame, to which a powerful cooling charm was applied.

"Impressive." Skull One spoke.

"Quite." Lucius agreed. Another curse, in volleys now, approached the leader of the Skull Sect. A barrier from Psi blocked those and Skull One glanced behind him. Skull Two, Aqua Mu, Faile Omega, Psi Pi, and Faile Alpha were with him. Everyone else held their ground.

"Let's duel." Skull One spoke.

"Lets."

A powerful version of the Flipendo charm launched at Skull One, who retaliated with a wind screw, flames lancing along the sides of the funnel. The two canceled each other out, but Skull One also followed with an earthen spike line. A levitation charm let Lucius dodge that. Two flaming crosses flew from Lucius's wand tip. A shielding charm enhanced with Psi sight blocked that. The two dueled it out for an hour, the Hogwarts students, Death Eaters, and Skull sect not interfering.

When Skull One heard a signal, a fierce grin came upon his tired face.

"What are you grinning at?" Lucius growled, face taut.

"You're surrounded. Aqua Alpha, Earthian Alpha, Psi Alpha! Advance!" The end was sealed with a blast comprised of all five elements of sight. The attack knocked Lucius unconscious as well as destroying his wand. A bunch of other Seers, many high-leveled, advanced, decimating the Death Eaters.

"Skull One." Aqua Alpha whispered. "We heard your call. You jumped? To **_Sight_**?"

"Yes, I have." He placed a hand on Skull Two's shoulder. "Pyro Alpha had also jumped. He's at Swirls. He is currently Skull Two. Causalities?"

"None." Aqua Mu reported. "Several heavily wounded- those with healing abilities are working with them right now."

"Good." Skull One whispered.

That was when Skull One heard the Wizards coming. "Skull Psi Sect! To me! Wizards and witches, seventh and sixth years, go back to the battle line!" Skull One ordered. "First to fifth, back to where you were before! Others, warp back to where you were before!" Everyone did as told as every person with the Psi sight ability rallied around him. "Okay, we're going to change the memory of this event for everyone. No one will remember the event as it happened. Any evidence of Seers will fade. It will go as if the Wizards and Witches did it on their own. Understand?" As one, they nodded.

All closed their eyes. White robes appeared on all of them, their uniform. Each of their individual marks appeared on their forehead, glowing brightly. Sparkling purple lights spun in a circle, freezing time itself. The violet grew extremely bright and white lights encompassed all.

Harry sighed as they returned to the castle. "We made it."

"Keep your chin up." Ron remarked. "We survived and nobody died! We should celebrate!"

Suddenly the impact of what had happened struck everybody. "We survived a Death Eater attack!"

"None died!"

"We defeated a large strike force of You-Know-Whose army!"

"No one _died_!"

Cheers went up all around them. Ron smiled slowly, catching the eye of Justin, and both faded into the crowds.

Albus Dumbledore frowned as something batted against his mind.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Ron called, smiling.

"Ah, Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore covered his annoyance with a smile. "Good work. Everyone did well today."

"Right." The red-headed wizard turned and something flashed from underneath his cloak. It created a crack in whatever it was in his mind and that was all the old wizard needed. With a skill that would impress anyone, he effectively shattered what binding held his mind and a torrent of memories flooded into his brain. When he recovered, Ron's back was to him, but he called anyway.

"Mr. Weasley? May I see you in my office? You too, Mr. Flitch-Fletchly." He added to his left. Dumbledore headed through the crowds, the mass of people effectively concealing him. Ron and Justin still managed to follow him, silently, all the way to the gargoyle which housed his office.

Once inside, Dumbledore calmly focused on the two before him. "Those are some amazing powers that you have."

He watched as both boys stiffened, eyes and faces hardening.

"How do you know of that?" Ron whispered.

"You shouldn't." Justin added.

"All there needs is but a crack and even the greatest defenses could crumble." The aged wizard sighed.

"The Sword." Justin turned to Ron. "Skull One, the Sword."

"Right Skull Two." And suddenly, Dumbledore noticed something change about Ron. The aura around him grew, something to a greater magnitude than he ever imagined. This wasn't just Ron anymore. He was Skull One.

"The Sword is incredibly powerful." And the weapon was drawn. Dumbledore was nearly blinded by the energy radiating from it. He understood now why Tom was after it. "It's... the core of all Psi. I recognize it now. The Sword of Battle is also known as the Heart of the Psi. It houses the core of all Seers inside it." Then Dumbledore saw it. A mark was burning on Skull One's forehead. It was an eye with five lashes above, three lashes below, and two swirls on each side. Skull Two had the same, but Skull One's had a pupil. The powerful wizard saw the importance behind the pupil, if the word Seer meant anything. "If Voldemort gets it, he'll be able to, for the lack of a better word, summon us. And we must follow him. We must, for he holds the Sword." He glanced up at Dumbledore. "I'm going to shield this, but I need help. My power alone is not enough to hide this power, for the core of my power is still but a fragment of this sword. You're one of the greatest wizards of this time. I need your help."

"And so you shall have it." Dumbledore whispered as he grasped Skull One's hand. Skull Two placed his hand over their joined hands and the flow of power in the room heightened. Fire, water, wind, earth, energy, and the neutral magic of Wizardry and Witchcraft circled on the room, funneling around the sword. It just seemed to get stronger and stronger, though the natural protections around the office prevented it from spilling out. Fawkes, however, flew outside. At the apex of the strength, the power tapered off.

Skull One fell against his seat, staring at the Sword of Battle, a light of recognition in his eyes. "Hey, I recognize this."

Skull Two turned his head. "It's one of the ornaments hanging on the Psi Chamber's wall." His eyes widened. "Do you think he could sense the true power of the sword even in its dormancy? Even through the," here Skull Two quieted.

"Even through the portal to the Psi Chamber." Skull One spoke. "There's a portal in Hogwarts, only accessible by those who can use sight."

"It was always radiating power," Dumbledore spoke, "but it meant little, like but a spark. Voldemort must know what it means, but he shouldn't be able to trace it. It is hardly more than a flash now."

Skull One looked up at Dumbledore. "You do realize that the Council will flip and instate a more permanent memory loss if you tell, right? Not even the Sword can save you if every being with Psi talent around the world locks away your knowledge."

"I understand." Dumbledore nodded. "Classes are dismissed for the rest of the day."

Skull One and Skull Two rose and in the instant the Sword of Battle disappeared from Skull One's hand, they disappeared, returning to being Ron and Justin. Ron smiled a disarming smile at Dumbledore. "See you later Professor Dumbledore."

Professor Dumbledore nodded, a twinkle in his eye. Looks like he had another destiny to look after.

Ron parted ways with Justin outside of the office, making a trip first to the Chamber of the Psi to place the Sword of Battle in its place. He then returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, with much to think about.

_I can lead us into battle. I have the power, the ability. Yet I cannot kill Voldemort, for his powers can repel mine, for he can cheat death even with the sight working against him._ Another thought filtered across his mind. _That doesn't mean I can't help Harry. The next time someone or something comes after him, a level seven Psi will meet them._

Ron smiled as he entered the Boy's Dormitory and placed his head onto his pillow. _Voldemort's followers won't know what hit them._


	10. Bonus ending, mind you, she read the rea...

Note from Catc10: I had to BEG my friend to write something for me, because she writes good and she helped me come up with an idea in the first place for this entire thing and it only felt right. So, yeah. Bonus Ending! ME.

Justin, on the other side of the hall, was looking around with squinty eyes for the source of his pain. Ron, in a state of total emotionlessness, thought that he should have expected as much from Justin. The other boy was incredibly perceptive of psi magic in general, which made up for his relative weakness in other fields. Vaguely, Ron felt a little bad that his jumping had given his teammate such a headache, but his mind was more directly focused on the battle ahead. Now that he'd jumped to the seventh level (and that realization had only surprised him for a moment), he didn't need the Psi Council's permission to lead his teams into the fight. In all truth, he could lead every psi in the entire world against Voldemort, simply because he was the only one to reach the sight in- what, three _thousand_ years?

In some corner of his mind, Ron wondered at the total lack of emotion to his thoughts, but it didn't really bother him. With the sight and the accompanying flood of power, all his feelings had been washed away. He sort of felt them behind his conscious mind, chugging along as usual, but in the coming fight they would only get in the way. And besides, Ron felt he was rather in agreement with himself- as strange as that sounded.

Calmly, Ron glanced over the hall, and was pleased- as much as that feeling could get- to see that most of Skull Squadron had been held back from the battles outside. Quite complacent, he approached Dumbledore and the other teachers where they had set up their temporary command center. With an experienced ear he listened in on their conversations and noted all the mistakes they were making out of haste or ignorance, and marked everything he would have his team fix. Then he stepped in.

"Professor Dumbledore, I think I can help you," he said, startling Snape and McGonagall, who hadn't noticed him.

"No, Mr. Weasley, I think it's best if you stayed here," Dumbledore told him, though Ron suspected- again, in that deep corner of his mind- that Dumbledore had been a little startled by his apparent lack of passion. "You don't have enough experience at your age to fight in a battle like this," Dumbledore continued.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, to protest or point out some of the holes in their plans, but Snape cut him off. "Mr. Weasley, you heard the Headmaster, now do as you're told."

"It's for your own safety, "McGonagall added more kindly.

Ron would have sighed, if he'd been less calm. Instead he mumbled a 'yes, Professor' and walked off. He immediately asked to go to the boy's room, then switched his direction once he was out of sight and headed to the Hall of the Psi, changing into his robes as he went. Hopefully, Harry wouldn't use the Marauder's Map to check his location. Ron knew the Hall wasn't on the Map- he'd looked once, to be absolutely sure- but it would be a puzzle if Ron was just floating in empty space on the paper, or something equally unexplainable.

As soon as he reached the Hall, Ron called the entire Squadron immediately to him. He didn't bother to send a warning to those in the Great Hall above, just pulled them right into the room using his own new and incredible power. For those in the battle on the grounds outside, he put a need in their minds, identifiable to most as a call by their leader, to be in the Hall of the Psi as soon as possible. For the Muggles, who knew nothing of the battle, he gave the same prompting- a feeling deep in your bones that you _needed_, above all else, to go the Hall. Within a few minutes, everyone was assembled, though only Ron wore his robes. Most of the Psi found it a rather eye-opening experience.

A loud clamor had begun, everyone asking what was going on and what this Slytherin or that Muggle thought they were doing there. Ron called for order silently by waving his hand and putting everyone in his or her robes. As he ascended the dais, the students calmed down and watched him exclusively.

"We are under attack," he said quietly, though no one had trouble hearing him. "Not the Psi, though we are the cause of the attack. In the school above us, the students are fighting to protect the power that runs through our veins, though I only discovered this a short time ago. Still, I intend to fight," he continued, "and I now have the authority to do so."

Once he'd said this, people started noticing the pupil in the center of his mark, which before had gone unnoticed, used as they were to his authority. But even the newest blind one was taught the history and traditions of the Order, and all gasped at the significance of that little bit of color. No one questioned him. This was not only a matter of tradition; it was a matter of life and death for all of them. The unworthy simply didn't achieve the sight.

Ron quickly divided the Squadron into groups, according to their different strengths instead of by Sept. He laid out his immediate battle plan, using the knowledge he'd gleaned from eavesdropping on the professors, and by asking those who had just come from the grounds what they knew about the battle above them. Then he sent them on their way, noting pleasantly, with that small bit of himself that observed everything going on, that everyone had quickly forgotten their own identities and the identities of their comrades, once things became serious. Just to be sure, he carefully erased everyone's specific recollections of who they had seen just then. There was a time and a place to spill all secrets, and it was soon, but this was not it.

Once everyone had left to the grounds above, Ron dismembered his robes and returned to the Great Hall. He used a bit of power to continue eavesdropping on the professors and keep in touch with his commanders, receiving reports and giving covert orders. His goal was to help without being seen, at least for now.

Even the barest command of Psi was more useful than a wand in this fight. Death Eaters were sucked into rock that turned as liquid as quick sand, and peaceful streams became torrents of raging water to drown the invaders when they weren't looking. The air compressed in their throats, and the very trees and plants of the grounds bent down and swept the evil wizards into the sky. From afar, the more experienced users of the Psi Sept used their raw power to drive some of the men insane. War was never pretty, but now that nature was answering the plea of her guardians, the havoc of this battlefield was unmatched.

Ron observed from the Great Hall, seemingly staring into space, utterly emotionless. A space had appeared around him, as the other students, all his own age and younger, picked up unconsciously on the power he was radiating and avoided him. Ron didn't notice. He cast his gaze over the oncoming battle as it approached the actual castle building, searching for the means by which the Dark Lord had traced their powers.

His gaze swept over the creeping front line, but there was nothing. Then the leader of Aqua Sept drew his attention beyond the line, to a clearing by the lake. The Dark Lord stood there, along with a sniveling wretch of a man. Ron let his 'sight' fall on the man, ignoring the Dark Lord for the moment. He noted dispassionately that the thing was really only a boy, a little older than Ron himself was; what was of more interest to him was the boy's mind. The poor child had incredible sensitivity to Psi power. His metaphorical nose for the natural energy made Justin Flinch-Fletchy's look puny by comparison. Ron realized with regret that the unnatural sensitivity had driven the boy insane. He knew only his special senses, and that the Dark Lord would not hurt him if he used it.

Ron carefully covered the boy's mind with his power, blocking his sensitive perception and immersing the boy in a painless euphoria of peace. He cut off the connection between the boy's mind and body, isolating his consciousness, but then sighed in defeat. He'd hoped to save the poor boy, but there was nothing of his original self left inside him; he'd been held too long under the control of the Death Eaters and his own mind. Ron gently released his consciousness, leaving the jerking body to fall soulless to the ground. It was the only rest the boy might find on this world, and Ron gave it to him gladly.

As the body collapsed to the ground, the Dark Lord looked around, puzzled and maybe a little afraid. Ron looked with unnatural dispassion on the once-man's figure. His own repressed emotional self felt a bit of empathy for Harry, that his friend had to deal with this creature so much, and also regret that Harry wouldn't get his own revenge on the thing that had killed his parents. Then Ron- the powerful, calm Psi Master that Ron had become- reached with his power and severed the tie between the Dark Lord's body and his spirit.

Ron had hoped that this might be the end, but he hadn't really expected it to be so. Voldemort had worked hard to make sure no wizard could defeat him. As his former body fell to the ground beside the body of the boy he'd enslaved, his spirit gravitated back towards it, trying to re-enter the flesh. Ron was having none of that. He built a shield around the two bodies lying on the ground and sent word to his followers to shield all the bodies of the dead to prevent the Dark Lord from fleeing directly there. Unfortunately, they couldn't shield every soul-less form in the world. Quickly Ron formed a second shield around the spirit-shape of the Dark Lord. It was more difficult to hold, and needed more power to work, but Ron tenaciously supported it.

Voldemort's spirit pushed desperately against the shield, beginning to shrivel into nothingness. It tried to possess a snake form, but Ron banished that as quickly as the Dark Lord could form it. Dying now, the Dark Lord made one last push for freedom, throwing all of its power onto the shield around it.

His mind held, but back in the Great Hall, the body he'd slipped out of was causing a ruckus. To those watching, Ron, who had appeared either blank with shock or asleep, suddenly howled in pain, clapping his hands to his forehead, which glowed an unnatural blue beneath his fingers. His soul writhed with the power of the Psi, trying to find a balance and keep the Dark Lord's spirit trapped at the same time.

Finally, it ended. The Dark Lord's spirit had vanished. In the Great Hall Ron's body collapsed, twitching, but Ron's mind was still out in the forest by the lake. He carefully examined the area and the bodies of the fallen, then eliminated all trace of Voldemort's previous form. Hopefully, that had done it.

He let his consciousness slip back into his body in the Great Hall, blinking at the tingling all through his veins. Around him stood a ring of younger students, and he could hear the professors approaching, yelling for everyone to get out of the way. He sat up just as McGonagall pushed through the crowd and crouched beside him.

"What's happened here, Mr. Weasley?" she demanded. Still in his utterly calm state, Ron decided to play dumb.

"I don't know, Professor," he began, putting on a breathless and confused front with ease, "my head just got all scrambled and painful all of a sudden." He lowered his voice. "Has somebody died?" He whispered, looking convincingly scared.

"We shall see," McGonagall stated severely. "In the meantime, I will be taking you to the hospital wing and putting you in the care of Madam Pomfrey until this is over and we can determine what has happened. Can you stand up?" She asked him, more kindly, and Ron nodded and pushed himself up off the floor. The students parted in front of them as McGonagall led him away from the Great Hall. Ron noted out of the corner of his eye that Dumbledore was watching them leave.

In the hospital wing, he allowed Pomfrey to baby him and put him in a bed, then pretended to go to sleep. Eyes closed, he let his Psi sight drift over the battleground. Voldemort had been in the back as the Death Eaters moved on, so no one on the other side knew that their leader was defeated. Ron kept an eye out in case the Dark Lord had somehow survived, but was relieved to see nothing. He observed how the battle continued.

Skull Squadron was taking off a significant percentage of the Death Eater forces, but because they were trying not to be seen, no one was really noticing what was happening. The Psi forces were eating holes in the reserves and the rear troops of the other side, as well as covertly saving the wizards on their side from disaster. Neither side had actually noticed the presence of the Psi, and only the Death Eaters were beginning to notice the absence of their comrades behind them.

It wasn't enough though. The attacking lines were still too thick; the defending forces were too weak and unskilled. He noticed with approval that the leaders were taking more risk of being seen to do more good on the field. They were very well prepared for this.

Although most of the Psi out there were students of various ages, not all were of a young age. Some had been members of Skull Squadron far longer than Ron had been Skull-One. There were adults out there, both Muggle and Wizard, who had been using nature's power since before Ron had even been born. But that didn't matter so much as your level did. When in other organizations a young, inexperienced, but high-ranking leader might be disastrous, in the Order of the Psi, rank and power were given, without fault, by merit. Some Psi would never get past third level, because they lacked either the power or the wisdom to increase. If a three-year old reached the seventh level, all Psi would follow the child without question. It was difficult to grasp the concept, but the levels were awarded by the power of nature itself to those who would use them well. No one who was not ready to proceed would do so, no matter what that person or the rest of the world believed of them. If Ron had achieved the seventh level, it was because the earth had deemed him worthy, and no Psi would question that. Thus, when he advanced quickly through the ranks of Skull Squadron, he took leadership with no trouble from either himself or his new subordinates.

Outside, a Muggle eight-year-old boy at level four supported a young witch who was at level two, graduated just a few years ago from Hogwarts and Slytherin by nature. They held an easy camaraderie of long-time friends, though they would never see or speak to each other outside of the meetings of Skull Squadron. Their differences in the real world were never spoken of, and in the Order each person was welcomed easily, no matter their comparative strength.

Ron turned his eyes back to the battle and the matter at hand. The Psi would have to do something much more drastic and effective if the day was to end with Hogwarts still standing. The Psi were safe, but only he knew that, and the battle continued still. Ron sighed. He opened his eyes and sat up in the bed, looking around. There was no one in the wing, but Madam Pomfrey was nearby in her office. When Ron spread out his senses, he could see Harry and Hermione waiting anxiously outside the door to the hospital wing. There would be no getting out of here in secret unless he used his Psi power.

Ron shook himself to clear his mind. Pomfrey heard the motion and swept in to ask him how he was feeling, but Ron was already out of the bed and standing. Before Pomfrey could protest, he spoke. "May I have my clothes?" He asked politely. Pomfrey stuttered, then pulled herself together.

"Mr. Weasley, you should be asleep," she demanded. "I insist that you get back in bed."

"No," Ron told her. The door burst open, and Harry and Hermione charged in. They'd probably heard him speaking and decided to ignore the rules and come see him. Ron felt vague feelings of appreciation, but his emotions were still being repressed by his battle-mode self.

"Ron, are you alright?" Hermione asked.

"What happened down there?" Harry added.

"I'm fine," Ron said calmly. "Madam Pomfrey, I'm leaving now," he continued to the nurse. "May I have my clothes?"

"What?" Hermione and Harry exclaimed.

"Never mind, "Ron said, and donned his Psi robes. Before anyone could move, he froze everyone so that they couldn't move or speak. Harry and Hermione were staring at him, and Pomfrey was trying to say something, her eyes bugging out. "Sorry about this," Ron told them, a bit like his old self. Then the feeling drained from his face, and he pulled up his hood. He strolled to the window and looked out at the battle below. Behind him, he felt the eyes of the others following him. He didn't care. It was too late now.

He opened the window and casually crumpled the bars with a wave of his hand. Standing on the sill, he pinpointed the position of the nearest Sept leader and jumped. As he fell he released his hold on the hospital wing above, though he locked the door as an afterthought. Even with his emotions repressed, he could feel enough to worry about his friends and keep them in a protected place. Hermione screamed as soon as the block fell.

Ron glided through the air, coming to a graceful stop behind a stand of trees with a gathering of Earthian Sept youngsters, interspersed with members of the Aqua and Faile Septs. The Earthian Alpha was there, directing the lower-leveled youths in attacking the enemy from behind. As soon as Ron hit the ground, she sensed him, and immediately turned to receive orders.

"How's it going?" Ron requested, falling into his Skull-One persona. The Muggle freshman gave a rapid report of her activities, and Ron listened raptly. It was as he'd suspected. "We're doing well," he told her, "but we can't keep these tactics up if we hope to win this war. Do whatever it takes. I'm authorizing you to be seen and not worry about wiping memories later, if you have to. Secrecy is not something to die for, not today at least. We need to take this battle to them." The young woman nodded and called in her young troops, giving new orders. Ron listened for a moment before he moved on.

By traveling through the soil and roots of the forest, he easily got through the battle lines, dragging down as many Death Eaters as he could on the way. He was vaguely surprised at the number of supporters Voldemort had managed to turn out for this battle, and wondered how many might be under the Imperious curse right now. Ron knew that the thought would make him cry later, when the battle was over and he could afford to feel anything, but at the moment he only found it unfortunate that so many innocents might be caught in a battle, with no time to check and see who was under someone else's control and who was acting independently. He met with the Pyro Sept Alpha, a sixth year Hufflepuff commanding a force of half Pyro, half Aqua third-levels. Ron took a report and gave the older boy the same instructions that he was passing to all the Sept Alphas, then went on his way. In a quarter of an hour, the battle's tide had turned in the favor of the wizards, who were too scared for their lives to question the open aid of their white-clad supporters.

The Death Eaters didn't stand a chance. The members of the Order worked seamlessly together with their fellows, accommodating the regular wizards and witches, who were far less used to working with total strangers. Ron simply strode along the battlefield, taking out any enemy who got in his way. His favored tactic was to simply freeze them where they stood, take off their mask, snatch their wand and stick it in the ground, encourage the piece of wood to grow into a tree around its former owner, and move on. Everywhere he went, he left a trail of Death Eaters, unmasked, trapped within the trunk of a magically grown, mystically inclined tree that didn't particularly like them. Any Earthian could get them out later, but until then, they were stuck.

Ron was beginning to think that losing their secrecy had finally won them the battle, when he encountered a thick knot of Death Eaters. In their center stood one masked Death Eater, but over his shoulder was slung a blood-red sash. Ron recognized the body as Lucius Malfoy's, but the mind was not his. If Ron's feelings had been less under control, he would have cursed. As it was, he merely slammed a powerful prison of energy around the entire group. Voldemort was possessing Malfoy.

Ron didn't know how the Dark Lord had gotten away, but he didn't intend to let it happen again. He carefully scanned the mind and soul of every man in the group, and noticed his major mistake. Voldemort had bound his soul to that of his most trusted servants. He had escaped to Malfoy's body, suppressing the original soul and taking complete control. At least five other Death Eaters in the group were similarly linked. Ron carefully picked apart each thread and incapacitated all the other Death Eaters, leaving Voldemort alone in Malfoy's body.

Ron pushed all the other Death Eaters out of the shield, leaving his followers to take care of them. Wizards and Psi alike were finishing the last of their opponents and gathering around the glowing blue orb that encircled their most powerful enemy and his sole opponent. He felt all the Psi feeding their power into the shield and gratefully took back some of his own strength. Some of the brighter wizards, Ron's own brothers among them, placed regular wizards' shields over the Psi block, adding to its already impressive power.

Malfoy- Voldemort- cackled half-fearfully as he confronted his unknown opponent. Already once defeated, he stood stripped of his back up plan, and knew that this was the one who had come to him the first time. He knew also that his enemy had learned from his past mistake. There could be no getting out of the fight this time.

Ron knew exactly what was going on in Voldemort's mind. Before starting the fight, he called all attention to himself, to make sure that everyone there would know how monumental this battle would be. He pushed a miniscule amount of power into his amethyst ring, causing it to pulse brightly, making a pretty show of light and not much else. It had the desired effect, though. All eyes were focused on Voldemort and himself. There would be no doubt as to the death of the enemy of the wizarding world.

Voldemort used Malfoy's body, bringing his hand clumsily upwards, wand gripped in shaking fingers. Ron contemptuously waved his ringed hand and sent the bit of wood flying. It bounced off the shields around them and landed in the dirt, taking root and becoming a giant redwood tree in seconds. Some of the Earthians had caught onto his tactic and made it look to the wizards like he had done it himself, intimidating Voldemort especially. Sammie, the little eight year old Muggle, giggled at Voldemort as the man stared at his wand, now growing leaves in profusion. It was the right effect, and Ron had no doubt that the fourth level boy had done it on purpose. Voldemort jerked at the innocent sound, then glared at Ron.

"Harry Potter," he hissed, his face contorting. Ron realized that his soul was taking over completely, twisting Lucius Malfoy's body to look like his own. Scornfully, Ron shook his head.

"I am not that one," Ron said, giving a little chuckle for effect. Voldemort twitched, and some of the wizards outside whispered. "I left him trapped safely in the castle above. He knows my face, enemy of nature, of wizards and Psi, of the very earth." Ron smiled grimly under his hood. "You will see it as well, before I have destroyed you for good and all here today." Ron threatened.

Voldemort was trembling, both from fear and from the effort his new body was undergoing to change. Ron had caught him at the perfect moment. "I am the Dark Lord Voldemort!" He cried as his body finished transforming itself. "No wizard can kill me! Even you failed before, and now I have this new body, young and powerful, at my command. No one stands a chance against me."

"It is not the body or the body's power that can stand up under the power of the Psi," Ron retorted in a scornful voice. "The Psi is of the mind. If you seek to control it, you must control your own mind first."

He didn't wait anymore. Without moving, he sent a wave of pure, amethyst Psi energy straight at Voldemort, in the same instant freezing his body in place. The light purple energy disrupted Voldemort's magical hold over Malfoy's body, forcing his cells to revert to their original genetic forms. Voldemort's soul was pushed directly out of Malfoy's body, which collapsed forward. Ron pushed the Death Eater's form under the wand tree and asked it to secure him there. It gladly wrapped its roots around Malfoy's weak form, leaving Ron free to take on Voldemort's spirit once more. Again he set up a cage around the spirit form, drawing all his power away from the outer shield.

This time Voldemort didn't dally. He threw his serpent-like spirit form against the walls of his prison. Like before, Ron's own body collapsed to the ground, convulsing. His hood fell back, exposing his face, though no one could see him because his forehead mark was glowing so brightly. A wordless shout was thrown from his throat. But the prison held. Voldemort's spirit stayed for a moment, then diminished. It grew smaller and smaller, then with a blood-curdling shriek it vanished.

Ron collapsed, exhausted, to the ground. The Psi and wizards outside dropped their own shields and rushed forward. Ironically, the first one to his side was Draco Malfoy.

The other boy was breathing heavily, as though from a great exertion. He fell to his knees beside Ron, gaping. "Weasley?" He gasped, totally shocked. Ron merely coughed, and blood colored his lips. Twice in one day he'd used more power than any Psi had possessed in over three thousand years. The toll on his body was intense, but with rest, Ron knew he would be all right. He tried to push himself to his feet, but ended up collapsing again. It was Sammie who came to his rescue. The boy had pushed his hood back as well, and his sweet eight-year-old face appeared above Malfoy's. He crouched down and ran a hand over Ron's face, collecting the blood in his hand and throwing it away. His sapphire ring glowed on his delicate child's fingers.

"Skull One? Are you alright?" Sammie queried.

"I'm okay… just get me… to the hospital wing," Ron told the boy, trying not to cough up more blood. The marks on their foreheads glowed faintly as Sammie touched him, trying to pull him up off the ground. Ron was more than a little surprised when Malfoy took his other shoulder, pulling most of his weight and giving Sammie directions to the hospital wing. "What…?" Ron asked, then coughed up more blood.

"My father's had me under the Imperious curse since I could talk," Malfoy said, grim and coldly furious. "If you hadn't just done what you did, I wouldn't have ever had an opportunity to break it. But after you finished with Voldemort," and Malfoy said the name with no hesitation, and no small amount of hate, "he was so messed up that he didn't even realize I'd gotten loose."

Then they were at the hospital wing. They could here Harry and Hermione yelling from inside and banging on the door. Sammie tried to undo the lock and failed. He turned to Ron, who managed to slip his hand clumsily into Sammie's little one, with Draco supporting all his weight. Foreheads and rings glowing from the power share, Sammie drew on Ron's power to lift the lock on the door, but the use of power sent Ron into a bad coughing fit. Draco blanched, but carefully supported Ron as Sammie yelled for Harry to open the door.

The heavy wood burst open and Harry and Hermione charged out, but Sammie drew water from the air and the blood and sweat covering everyone to make a wall of water to protect the three of them. Draco shoved past the panting and startled witch and wizard and charged into the hospital wing. He carefully settled Ron on the bed, where the redheaded Psi immediately went to sleep.

Sammie came behind them at a more sedate pace, dropping the water wall, which Harry and Hermione were afraid to cross, when Skull One was safely tucked in. The little eight-year-old clambered up onto the bed and sat next to his leader. The three older kids stared at him and Skull One, with varying degrees of shock and worry on their faces. He didn't really understand what was going on as far as all the magic stuff was concerned, but he figured it was like the Psi, where some people had it and some didn't, and those who didn't have the power didn't know about it. It stood to reason that some people would have both kinds of power.

Sammie had noticed that, although everyone had cleared a path for the blonde boy and himself to help Skull One to the nurse's office (though the nurse herself had yet to appear, and it didn't look like she was taking good care of her patients, if the hyperventilating lady in the corner was any indication), they hadn't hesitated to follow after their savior. Really, it was only the non-Psi who were following them, since all of Skull One's followers could feel that he was getting better each minute with rest. Skull One had already been using his control over water to clot his own blood, easily stopping the internal bleeding inside his own body. Sammie looked up from the bed and waved his ringed hand at the door, closing it soundly. Then he used his own power to place a lock on the room, as Skull One had before. It wasn't nearly as powerful or complex as his leader's lock, but it would hold- barely.

Sammie, also known as Skull Aqua Iota, looked at his leader in awe and worry. It was the first that he, and probably any member of the Order of the Psi, had seen the boy's face, and he carefully memorized his leader's features so that he would be able to identify Skull One easily outside of Psi meetings. From what Sammie had seen, Skull One did not intend to keep the Psi a secret anymore after all of this was done. Already, too many people had seen and identified Skull One, who was now the most powerful member of the Order the world over.

_It is time for us to come out into the open,_ he mused. _For so long, we have hidden ourselves, but we can not hide forever. People must accept us._ Sammie watched Skull One sleeping, and felt a little sorry for his leader, who couldn't be ten years older than himself. _He will be the scapegoat of us all, and willingly, too._ Sammie thought sadly. _It is hard to be a leader of humans, because we are so hard on each other and ourselves. Only a strong person could survive such a life for long._

In the back of his own mind, Sammie heard a sound like drumbeats. It was soft and deep, as if coming from a distance. The sapphire on his finger glowed, and a swell of power raced through him. For a moment, his sight was consumed by blue white light.

When his vision cleared, Sammie put his hand to his head. His forehead felt warm to the touch, and when he pulled his hand away, his fingers glowed faintly blue. "Well," he said to himself, "I wasn't expecting that."

The older kids were staring at him, open-mouthed. Finally the girl gathered herself and demanded, "What's going on here?"

"I don't really know, beyond our leader calling us to battle," Sammie replied truthfully. "Skull One sent out a Call earlier this morning and assembled our Squadron to fight those fellows attacking your school. Beyond that, the only thing that matters to us is that Skull One has reached the Sight."

"What are you?" the girl queried, equal parts curious and afraid. _She's a smart one,_ Sammie thought.

"A boy," he replied solemnly. The girl huffed, and began to respecify her question. "No, I know that's not what you meant," Sammie told her. He hesitated. "I . . . we are of the Order of the Psi. Today you saw Skull Squadron in battle, and at their head, our leader," Sammie gestured to the inert boy lying behind him, "Skull One. My own designation is Skull Aqua Iota."

"Ron?" the dark-haired teenager exclaimed, looking extremely surprised.

"Apparently," the blonde affirmed. "You should have seen him kicking Voldemort's bloody arse out there. Plus, thanks to him, my good old dad finally bought it." Sammie gathered, from this and what the blonde had said earlier, that the older boy's father had been somehow controlling him, and his death had ended the control.

"Now I get a question." Sammie demanded, interrupting the thoughts of the others. "What kind of power do you three have. It's practically incompatible with psi magic, outside of people who carry both. I'm very curious about this, since all our meetings have been held in this place," he continued, waving one hand vaguely at the stone walls about them, "and I've still never encountered your style before."

They all stared at him for a moment, and then the black-haired teen asked incredulously, "How old are you?"

"Eight and half," Sammie informed them proudly. It was something he'd always taken joy in, his early maturity. Mostly he kept it to himself outside of Order meetings, but Aqua Mu had encouraged him to express his thoughts; the twenty-three year old girl was a good friend of his.

The blonde gave a low whistle of appreciation. "You're a smart kid. You say you've never seen magic before?"

"I've never seen _your_ magic before." Sammie corrected. "I've been a member of the Order since I was


	11. My ending! I finally typed it!

Just because I've finally gotten off my butt to do this, the final and last chapter of Order of the Psi!

ME

* * *

The dot faded into Ron's skin. Ron had jumped a level, to THE level. Ron backed out of the crowd around the battle's viewing mirrors; only just remembering it was there at all.

"Ron?" asked Hermione, putting a hand on his shoulder in a vague attempt at comfort. "Are you alright? You look pale, almost like you've just woken from a nightmare." She said, taking a quick glance at the mirror and to the image flashing pictures of brave redheaded twins ordering others about.

Ron looked Hermione in the eyes, behind her evident worry for him, he saw helplessness, and fear, and all the other little insecurities that Hermione did such a well job of covering beneath a mask of brains and know-it-all attitudes.

Slowly Ron's hands reached up to cup her soft, gentle face in his clammy palms. His thumbs smoothed out the tiny wrinkles that had framed the corners of her mouth in concern. Hermione opened her mouth to speak, when Harry interrupted.

"Ron! Hermione! The object just reached some whole new level of power! Voldemort has just decided to charge!" He cried, clutching the scarred side of his forehead with a spasm-fit fist. Instantly, Dumbledore and twisted above their maps of the grounds, desperately attempting to slap together a first line of defense.

Ron wasn't sure what expression he'd been wearing; he was to numb to note it. But he felt it change into the look he wore so often under the white Psi hood when training to earn his swirls. A steel determination.

"Jesus, Lee, what happened?" asked a shouting Fred and George, brining in another group of the injured teens in desperate need of medical attention.

"I don't know!" wailed Lee, near hysterics. Cho was in tears behind the trio, as the pranksters began a quiet argument.

"Nothing." Ron muttered. "Nothing happened." Stalking over to the fight, he roughly pushed the twins apart and grabbed Lee by the sleeve of his robe. Quickly, he turned and dragged him to Cho, now pathetically on the stone floor sobbing.

Ron yanked the girl to her feet and pulled both along behind him. Next he seized Hannah Abbot, then Justin Finch-Fletchley. He herded all four to the Slytherin table, where he grabbed up Pansy Parkington

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Weasel?" she shrieked, as they were all bodily dragged to a little ways off into the corner of the Great Hall.

Just as suddenly as he'd started, Ron stopped and spun on the ball of one foot, and pinned them all to their positions with a look. "Let me make some introductions, shall I?" he asked with a razor bladed voice.

All opposing banter stopped dead.

He motioned to Lee, "Pyro-Alfa."

Toward Cho, "Aqua-Alfa."

Toward Hannah, "Faile-Alfa."

Toward Justin, "Earthian-Alfa."

Toward Pansy, "Psi-Alfa."

And at first, none moved. Then they began to realize that not only did he know where they were, but that they now held that knowledge, too. In almost complete unison, the quintet pointed in the direction of another and yelped, "Wait, you're!"

"But, if you knew that," said Pansy, swiveling her head to face Ron once more, "Then you must be…Oh my God."

Ron smirked at the shocked faces of his schoolmates. "And look at me, thinking you'd been a Ravenclaw." Lee said under his breath. And next he knew, Ron was bombarded by questions.

"What was that power? Where did it come from? Do you know what caused it?" they asked in varying degrees of wonder and fear. Ron shushed them with a flick of a wrist.

"It was someone jumping levels." He stated simply.

"How?" asked Justin, "I felt you jump to sixth level, and even that wasn't this powerful!" The group nodded, and waited for an answer.

Ron sighed, and called forth his Psi power, channeling it to his forehead, to allow his pupil to glow with it's eerie blue-white for a brief moment.

"I jumped. I have achieved…sight. I no longer merely see." Even with the background noise the rest of the students made with their frightened shifting, and the teachers created with their secretive whispers, you may have been able to hear a pin drop within the small group to the side of the hall, not that anyone noticed.

Cho's tears slowed and stopped, "What do you want us to do?"

Ron faced her with a fatherly smile, "We're in the middle of a battle, little one. What do you think?"

As one, all turned to the head table where Dumbledore and Snape were still pondering and plotting worriedly.

The oddly paired and rag-tag group was led up to the headmaster by Ron. Snape noticed them first and barked a stiff order for them to head off and leave them alone, he and Dumbledore were busy.

"Do you want help or not?" snapped Lee, Pyro-personality making itself known, loudly. He glared defiantly at the greasy Professor, crossing his arms firmly over his chest.

Ron shushed his antics with a quick thought and motioned hand.

"We can help." Ron said. Dumbledore gave the small team a sad smile and began to straighten up, but Ron beat him by motioning to Cho. She pointed out some beneficial strategic maneuvers. Snape gaped.

"Why didn't we…? Quick! Send the orders! Hissed Snape to a waiting seventh year runner. Dumbledore faced them, with a new look in his eye.

"What do you think of all this?" he asked, waving a hand over the maps, which held far too many red ink dots to mark enemies, and far too few blue ones of students.

Ron spoke up rapidly, "You have too few soldiers, with less than adequate training, for one."

"Mr.Weasly, Ron, if you have better soldiers than by all means get them. Now if you don't mind, " Dumbledore said, turning to Cho, and silently dismissing the rest of them.

Finally realizing that their friend was gone, the twins rushed to the group and began to shout. "Lee! What the bloody hell is going on?" the collected Psi and two professors jumped around, save Ron. Two pairs of arms took hold of Lee's dark sleeves, prepared to take him away.

"Not now, mates." Said Jordan, trying to brush them off.

"Come on, you were wasting time earlier—Don't keep it up! We have things to do, and you're being all weird and hanging around our little brother, it's time to GO!" The twins gave one massive yank and almost managed to bring Lee tumbling off with them.

"Let GO!" Lee snarled. A bright orange flare flew up Lee's arms and dissipated into a colorless heat wave that forced the twins back. It was only a split-second, but Lee had been consumed in fire.

At the stared of all in the Hall, Lee stared defiantly back. Well, he did to the twins. Not until he saw Ron's withering glare did he realize he'd gathered, quite neatly, the attention of every person in the room. Blushing against his dark skin, he stepped back in embarrassment.

Ron turned to Dumbledore, and into the silence of the Great Hall, began to speak.

"You dare me to call my army? So be it; they shall be summoned."

Taking their cue, the sept leaders started halfway to the tables, and raised their left hands to the fake-storming ceiling, their rings and robes, complete with hood, appearing on their bodies.

"Faile-sept!" Hannah shouted, and they unwittingly transformed their clothes and robes into the white uniform.

"Earthian-sept!" followed Justin, with another wave of white.

"Aqua-sept!"

"Pyro-sept!"

"Psi-sept!"

All the Psi present were now in uniform, save Ron. Ron beamed at his army. Standing at the ready, wondering how they were to do anything at all.

"Pansy?" Ron said, "have you best telepathy users contact the muggle members, the usual teleport spots. Have the teleporters pick them up." She nodded and a not but a minute later, the number of white-capped figures had doubled, to at least eighty.

Ron faced Dumbledore, pale beneath his half-moon spectacles. For one of the few times Ron remembered, the man's eyes appeared to be his age, not twinkling to seem younger. "This is my army, Dumbledore. We are the skull-squadron of the Order of the Psi. Now this battle belongs to us." The robes now finally fell onto Ron's slender form, a black sash crossing over right shoulder to left waist, and a bright blue pulsing emblem on his forehead shone bright, the center of the stylized eye cut out to form what no other Psi had achieved in many centuries. A pupil. "And now, WE SHALL FIGHT!"

A cheer rose up from the ranks of white, they were grasping the concept behind the emblem.

Ron did not wait for the twins or the professors or Harry to understand. They had seventh years out on the battlefield, with next-to-no or none-at-all battle training!

"Aqua! Get your sept into the lake, knock out the masked attackers with water pellets!"

"What if they notice they're being attacked?" asked Cho, always in need of a good back up.

"Start hitting them with tidal waves! Earthian, go to the dungeons first. Earth-walk under the battlefield and pull the baddies underground and into safety stone—It's not affected by magic! Faile! Your people will be at the tower tops. Use whirlwinds to drag men off their broomsticks and keep the sky too turbulent to get back up! Pyro? Divide your men into two groups, one group goes around the grounds to put up and sustain a barrier, we don't need death eaters escaping by foot and apparation. Group two; you're our main ground attack force. Keep up your shields and let's fight magic with fire!

Taking a deep breath, Ron allowed the scramble to follow his instructions die a little before continuing.

"Psi! Split five ways, one group to help one other sept with barrier protection, teleport support, and healing. Go! Now!"

Harry took a moment and caught up mentally with the quick change of events, and asked what his mind deemed the most urgent question for the moment. "What about you, Ron?"

Ron slowed her fervor and put both hands on Harry's shoulders, giving a brief squeeze for comfort. "Harry, I realized when I jumped levels that what Voldemort's follower sensed was not an object at all. See these people? We are Psi. Our meetings were on the nights you had dreams. He sensed us, Harry, he sensed us. My job; is to find him."

Ron turned and began to walk out the doors when Harry called to his retreating back, "Stay safe!" and even if he couldn't see it, Ron smiled.

Ron stealthily maneuvered through the outer fringes of the forbidden forest. He could sense the pyros tensing for the attack. Failes gathered on the roof and prepared the aerial onslaught, Aquarians sifted themselves into the lake water, while Earthians gathered in small clumps underground, earth walking and ready to suck death eaters into underground prisons of hallowed rock.

On my mark, Ron told the squadron via mind-speak. The element of surprise is essential! One; the Psi relaxed, two, they tensed, three, they steeled their willpower, GO!

They went.

Instantly, a dozen death eaters were swallowed by the ground beneath them as giant mouths of earth opened their jaws like gaping whales to devour them, then settled as though no one had stepped foot there at all. Five men were clinging to bucking brooms while gale-force winds whipped about, attempting to dislodge them. Men began to fall unconscious left and right with odd wet patches on their skulls. But perhaps most noticeable, and most feared, were the white clad warriors appearing out of air, letting loose a burning redemption.

Satisfied the dark men were going to suffer harsh dealings before eventually losing, Ron set himself a little deeper into the undergrowth and began to shift though minds, searching.

'Bloody effin' hell! What in the name of effin' god are those?'

'No! No! This is not how it's supposed to go! No!'

The confused thoughts of the wicked were flashing frightfully around him, many of their emotions attempting to topple his own calm with their sheer volume. He mentally jumped from one head to the next, across a field of battle that transcended the physical plane.

'I need, I need! AH! Oh no! I need to…get away! A WALL?' Ron watched through the eyes of a man in front of the Pyro's barrier to the outside. The man reached a rough looking hand forward to touch what looked like a harmless red-orange light, but the moment skin touched the barrier, skin melted off and cauterized the wound. The man only just began to scream when Ron jumped off again. The minds, while loud, almost felt like feather touches.

'I knew it was powerful! I knew it! These wanna-be powerful wizards won't stop me!' A half maniacal mind clawed.

'Found him!' Ron cheered to himself. Spinning on his heel, Ron faced the direction of the mind's owner, eyes sweeping quickly over the battleground to find him.

The man was heading the charge of the attack, white mask askew slightly to the left, revealing the edge of a mad man's smile. He screamed, "Find the object! Find it and bring it to me!"

'He's gone bonkers.' Ron thought.

Bursting through the undergrowth Ron leapt in the air, using a combination of Psi-sept and Faile-sept techniques, taught to him when he was naught but third level, to propel himself over the heads of the enemy, and fly into and topple the man.

Sitting up on top of the crazed man he began a chant. "Sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-leyu-tawnte! Sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-sauu-sawme-leyu-tawnte!…" The calming words lulled the man to a mind-induced sleep, as a blue white light drifted over and across his forehead and into Ron's outstretched palm.

Absorbing the meager Psi-power the man had was simple, it wasn't as thought the fellow knew he had it; it wasn't even strong enough for him to be picked up Psi sensory. But it was powerful enough, that through his years going untrained, it had almost definitely driven him mad. It was getting away from the surrounding death eaters now that Ron worried about. Knowing suddenly, for sure, that the boy in front of them was real, that they could attack at any moment. Ron did a run down of his options.

'My teleportation range being so small takes that out of the question, halfway through earth walking would see me dead, I'd be vulnerable if I decided to fly, so…' Decision made, Ron focused his power and…

"**BLUEFIRE HELL**!" He screamed. A technique held tightly to the Pyro-sept, a blue wall of flame exploded outward from him, burning with head but not with any other physical sensation. Afterward, a singed circle of grass enclosed Ron with a ten-foot radius, clothes and nature burned, but other than bruises from the fall, the fainted humans in the circle were unharmed.

The battlefield was silent in the aftermath. Ron regained his composure and straightened from his hunched position. Taking their opportunity, the earthians stored more death eaters into underground caverns previously non-existent.

With their leader gone, the rest turned tail and ran. Ron pitied them some, to be winning a one-sided battle that turned on them so fast. "Psi! Take their wands!" Ron commanded. The trapped death eaters, having run into the flame wall, felt a brief tug and found themselves wandless.

In shorter words, trapped and helpless.

Haul them in. Ron told the barrier group. They ring of orange surrounding the grounds slowly shrunk to be no larger than the quiddich field.

All the death eaters trapped, Dumbledore and a procession of professors tailed from the front of gates. Seventh years scrambled behind them. Beneath his hood, Ron rolled his eyes at girls looking to Fred and George for comfort. Lee then jogged to Ron and pressed a fist to his heart in a simple salute.

"What do we do with the captives, Skull-one?" Lee asked.

"Knock out the remaining ones, and have Psi-Alfa keep them sleeping. Then…Relax. We've done our bit, Lee." Ron answered, turning his head to watch his orders being done by scurrying white-robed folk.

Turning to Dumbledore, the white robes darkened to black, hood melding into the mass, then the entire shadow outfit molded itself once again into his school uniform, Psi emblem fading on his forehead.

"Now it's time for you to do yours. These men need to be escorted to Azkaban. Will you do it?" Ron inquired of the old Professor.

Dumbledore nodded, "But only if you promise to explain this entire thing."

Ron sent him a blazing smile, for the old man's eyes once again twinkled youth, "Of course! I imagine there is a lot of it to do…"

* * *

Epilogue Part!

"The Psi, a group of peoples around the world, have been exposed here. Or rather, have come back from generations of hiding away." Ron said to an enraptured Dumbledore. Both were in Dumbledore's office atop the spiral staircase, sitting on opposite ends of the desk and discussing in detail what this 'entire thing', had been about.

"Around the world there are several squadrons. Squadrons are groups of Psi that come together to train and practice techniques. Here in England there is the Skull Squadron, Junior and Senior. For the past two years, I have been the junior's leader.

"In reality, all we've ever done is train. We are continuously preparing for a never-starting war. 'Not allowed to fight until someone with sight leads us to plight,' A Psi child's nursery rhyme.

"Unfortunately, these past days have seen the start of that never-arriving war. This is known because I have in Psi terms, achieved sight. I am the first to do so in a long, long time. Over three centuries has past since my predecessor gained he eye. Rest assured, though, Professor, we Psi man no harm to the wizarding world. The only ones able to fight at all fight for you, because I'm the only one to lead them." Dumbledore was fascinated immediately, and preceded to ask questions about their attack abilities.

"During the battle, what exactly did you use?"

Ron grinned, all boys played with toy guns as children. "Our method of communication is mind speak; basic telepathy. Next there are low-powered attacks that we can use, but most don't have specific names. Barriers are just what they sound like, invisible walls impenetrable to attack, magic or physical. Earth walking is just becoming one with the earth and then controlling the limited part that is yourself. The bluefire hell, well, that's a secret kept within the Psi." Dumbledore sat back and let Ron go for the day, or rather, until he digested this chunk of information and thought up a new batch of questions.

Ron exited the spiral staircase, and followed the gray stone corridors to the entrance hall. Stepping out of the great oak doors, he was surprised at nearly running into Harry, who with Hermione was just heading in.

Ron ducked his head to push past them; he did not want to see what kinds of looks they were giving him. Finding out your best friend had kept (rather large) secrets from you couldn't have been the best feeling in the world. A small part of Ron argued that they'd understand, but having grown to be somewhat pessimistic, the voice was squashed beneath worry.

A hand coming to rest on his shoulder stopped him. "Ron?" asked Harry.

"By all means Harry, you and Herm should at least not be talking to me." Ron said, a bit colder than he meant to.

"Now why would we do that?" said Hermione. "You kicked the arses—Don't look at me like that I can say it too, you know—The arses of an army of Death Eaters! If there's something more I could like you for, I'd personally enjoy learning what it is." Her speech delivered, short but heartfelt, Ron felt his lips quirking into a smile. Harry clapped him on the back a couple of times to signal his approval and Ron encircled them both into a bear hug.

"So," grunted Harry from the tight embrace, "Can you do tricks?"

"Hmm, do you want to see what'll happen when Malfoy is convinced his hair is purple?"

ENDE!

* * *

It's too long! Oh well, I've never been good at falling action. It's all about the climax, I can' t do too much else well enough. My rhythm is all off, it's just bad. But hey! It's over!

ME!


End file.
